We Few

"And your Home Fleet?" Edock asked.

"Strike fast enough, and they'll be left with a fait accompli," Roger pointed out. "They're not going to want to escalate to the point of nuking the Palace with Mother inside, and if they don't act immediately, we'll have news media and reasonably honest politicians all over it before they can do anything else. Home Fleet doesn't have a sizable Marine contingent, and there's a reason for that. They could nuke the Palace—assuming they could get through the surface-to-space defenses—but I'd be interested to see the reactions among the officers who heard the order. And that assumes we can't checkmate them, somehow."

"Take out Greenberg, for starters," Julian said. "And Gianetto. We'll have to get control of the Defense Headquarters, anyway."

"And a base?" the Phaenur asked.

"We've got one," Kosutic replied. Sroonday looked at her, and her mouth twitched in a tight grin.

"We've been talking about the Palace's security systems, but security for the Imperial Family isn't about individual structures, no matter how intimidating they may be. It's an entire edifice, an incredibly baroque and compartmentalized infrastructure which, for all intents and purposes, was directly designed by Miranda the First."

"With all due respect, Sergeant Major," War Minister Edock said, "Miranda the First has been dead for five hundred and sixty of your years."

"I realize that, Minister," Kosutic said. "And I don't mean to say that anything she personally designed is still part of the system. Mind you, it wouldn't really surprise me if that were the case. Miranda MacClintock was a bloody dangerous woman to get pissed off, and the terms 'incredibly devious' and 'long-term thinking' could have been invented expressly for the way her mind worked. But what I meant was that she was the one who created the entire concept of the Empress' Own, and established the philosophy and basic pla

"Compartmentalized in what sense, Sergeant Major?" Edock asked.

"The same way the Palace's security systems are," she said. "There are facilities—facilities outside the Palace, outside the entire normal chain of command—dedicated solely to the Imperial Family's security. Each battalion of the Empress's Own has its own set of secure facilities, known only to the battalion's senior members, to be used in case of an emergency. This is the first coup attempt to even come close to success in over half a mille

"Are you saying that no one from Steel, Silver, or Gold would know about these 'facilities,' Eva?" Temu Jin asked. "They're that secure?"

"Probably not," she conceded. "Most of the senior members of those battalions came up the ladder, starting with Bronze. So it's likely at least someone from the more senior outfits knows where just about everything assigned to Bronze is located. But they're not going to be talking about it, and even if they wanted to, our toots are equipped with security protocols which would make that an... unpleasant experience even after we retire. Which means there's no way anyone working for Adoula could have that information. So once we get to the Sol System, we'll use one of the Bronze facilities."

"I think, then, that we are as far along as we can get today," Sroonday said sibilantly. "Fleshing out the bones we have already put in place is a matter of details best left to staff. It will take some time, a few days at least, to acquire the materials you need. A freighter and a... discreet crew. And a captain."

"We have a captain," Roger said. "I'll get a list of the positions we'll need filled on the freighter. An old freighter, or one that looks old."

"Done," Sroonday said, rising. "I will not be directly involved in this further. It was hard enough to find a time when I could conveniently disappear as it is. Sreeetoth will be your liaison with me, and Admiral Ral will liaise with the War Minister."

"We thank you for your support, Minister Sroonday," Roger said, rising in turn and bowing across the table.

"As I pointed out, it is in our mutual interest," the Minister replied. "Alliances are always based upon mutual interest."

"So I've learned," Roger said with a thin smile.

Despreaux frowned and looked up from the list of stores she'd been accessing when the door beeped at her.

"Enter," she said, and frowned harder when she saw that it was the sergeant major and Eleanora O'Casey.

"Girl talk time again?" she asked more than a little caustically, swinging her station chair around to face them.

"You see what we meant," Eleanora said bluntly, without preamble, as she sat down in one of the room's float chairs and moved it closer to the desk. "I noticed you were really quiet in the meeting, Nimashet," she continued.

"I didn't have any contribution to make," Despreaux replied uncomfortably. "I'm already in way over my pay grade."

"Bullshit you didn't have a contribution," Kosutic said, even more bluntly than O'Casey. "And you know just what that contribution would be."

"Except that in this case, I halfway agree with him!" Despreaux replied angrily. "I think standing Adoula and his cronies, and everyone else associated with this plot, up against a nice, bead-pocked wall is a dandy idea!"

"And their families, too?" Eleanora asked. "Or are you going to let their relatives continue to have the positions of power their families held before the coup and also a blood feud with the Emperor? The point of courts and laws is to distance the individual from the act. If Roger has Adoula and everyone else summarily executed, everyone who disagrees with the decision will be after his scalp. And let's not even think about how the news media would play it! If he stands them all up against a wall and has a company of Mardukans shoot them, we will have a civil war on our hands. And a guerrilla war, and every other kind of war you can imagine."

"So we let them walk?" Despreaux demanded in exasperation. "Just like they always do? Or maybe they should get some quality time in a country-club prison, and then come out to make more minor mischief?"

"No," Kosutic said. "We arrest them, charge them with treason, and put them in jail. Then the IBI gathers the evidence, the courts do their work, and the guilty get quietly put to death. No passion. No fury. Calmly, efficiently, legally, and justly."

"And you think they won't walk with a passel of high-priced Imperial City lawyers?" Despreaux half-sneered. "With as much money as they have to throw at the problem?"

"Roger... didn't see all the data Sroonday had," Eleanora said uncomfortably. "With the things the Empress will have to say about... what's going on, I'd be very surprised if anyone were willing to be their lawyer, no matter what the fee. The difficulty will be keeping Adoula and New Madrid from being torn limb from limb."

"And just what," Despreaux asked carefully, "didn't Roger see?"

"I think that, for now, that will be kept to the Sergeant Major and myself," Eleanora said sternly. "You just focus on how to keep Roger from turning into another Dagger Lord. When he finds out, I think you'll have all you can handle keeping him from gutting New Madrid on the Palace steps."

"Welcome, Your Highness, to my home," Sreeetoth said, bowing to the prince as Roger stepped through the door.

"It's beautiful," Despreaux said in a hushed voice.

The home was a large plant—not exactly a tree, but more of a very large root. The top of the root-bole towered nearly twenty meters in the air and covered a roughly oval base which measured about thirty meters in its long dimension. Narrow branches clothed in long, fernlike purple leaves extended from the tops and sides, and the brown and gray moss which covered the surface of the root itself formed intricate patterns, something like a Celtic brooch.